Another day in Chicago
by Melschmidt
Summary: It all started with a stolen wallet.
1. Chapter 1

It all started with a stolen wallet. A boy who lives on the street and a cop who wants to change that.

A slightly different story.

The boy's stomach was growling since he woke up this morning and now by the time of noon the feeling was no longer bearable. The young lad was used to it, it wasn't the first time, he felt like he was starving any minute. Living on the streets of Chicago meant not to have access to food all the time nor to have access to a shower for that matter. It wasn't a game, it was a fight and the young kid knew how to survive it. That is why, he has spent the last 30 minutes with watching people on the Magnificent Mile. He was on the lookout for a victim, an easy target for his pickpocketing. He didn't like to steal wallets from strangers but he had no other option. The days were he could use his puppy eyes to convince people of buying him a hot-dog were long gone. Since he was almost a teenager, things got harder and he needed other options to feed himself. First he started to ask people directly for some coins but they always denied or pushed him out of the way. Thus, he had no other choice but to teach himself how to pickpocket wallets out of trousers, handbags and backpacks. And after some time, he had to admit with some proud, he got quite good at it. Sure, he got caught at the beginning but he could always break away and therefore never had troubles with cops.

The boy has also teached himself a good eye for potential victims. He was always looking for people who distracted themself, preferably by their phone. People these days were so engrossed in their cells that they didn't spend enough attention to their environment. You could get your hand easy on someone's wallet when they were on the phone having an important call. Like the guy in front of him.

The kid's eyes followed the man with the short grey hair, black leather jacket and dark pants the last five minutes and all the time he stayed on the phone, barking orders into it with his rough voice. _Jackpot_ , the boy thought happily. The man was the perfect target. The guy seemed so engrossed that he wouldn't even realize that his wallet was gone. The boy kept staring at the leather jacket man to study his appearance. The fellow didn't look like he could go for a run after the kid if he should indeed realize that he good a victim of pickpocketing. That doesn't mean, that the boy prefered to steal from elderly people, who couldn't chase him down the street, no, if he could avoid it, his targets were never old people. The kid had his own principles he tried to live by and that meant not to steal from old or poor persons. But the leather jacket man should be in his 50's, so the possibility of him going after the kid should be over by two blocks down the street because of his lack of oxygen.

The boy watched the leather man, how he fumbled with his right hand to get his wallet out of the jacket pocket and then giving the owner of a hot-dog stand 10 bugs out of it. _Put it in the back pocket, put in the back pocket,_ the lad was saying over and over again in his head like he could force him with his thoughts. And in fact, the older man put his wallet in his left back pocket and refocused on the conversation he still had on his phone, taking a bite of his hot-dog.

It was now or never, this was the opportunity the boy had waited for. The lad knew exactly what to do, how to approach and bump into the man. He has done it at least 100 times by now. The boy had to act like he was so busy looking around, not caring about the possible obstacles in front of him and just bump into the target. During that collision the boy had to react quickly to grab around the man's waist to get the wallet out of his pocket. And so the property would change his owner. Easy going.

The boy didn't let his target out of his sight as he made his way over to the man. He now had to focus on the task ahead of him. He didn't wanna miss the slightest change just because his stomach was hurting by now. He was determined to get the man's wallet as quick and safe as possible to finally fill his stomach with some food. It all depended now of the perfect timing and his ability to quickly put his hand on the wallet.

As the kid was making his way to the man, he could feel the all familiar anxiety and adrenaline starting to pump through his veins and making his heart beat rapidly in his chest. He was always afraid that someone could hear it. Even if he had done it dozen of times he couldn't get used to the fact that he was about to do something bad. Neither did he steal to feel the rush nor did he do it to impose other people, no, he only did it to survive another day in Chicago.

The leather jacket man didn't move one step away from his previous position and still had his phone clutched to his ear. Both of his hands were busy either holding the phone or the half eaten hot-dog. The boy was only 10 steps away as he started to get his plan into motion. He bend his head to the left to pretend that he wasn't looking but he still could watch the man out of the corner of his eye, hence he knew exactly when the collision was about to happen. Some seconds later the boy bumped with full force into the upper body of the leather jacket man and used the moment of collision to get his left hand around the waist and put a good grab on the wallet. Even though, the lad knew that the collision was about to happen, he was surprised by the firm impact and lightly lost his balance to the left as he grabbed the wallet with him.

"Excuse me, Sir" rolled easily over the boy's tongue as he stabilized himself, the wallet clutched at the outside of his upper left leg shielding it from the man's eyes. „Wasn't looking." And without any other interaction the boy made his way further down the street. The kid was so happy that he finally got some money to fill his stomach, that he didn't even noticed that the leather jacket man was following him hot on his wheels.

The young kid made his way straight to the next well known alley to check the wallet of the needed money. He prefered the quietness of an alley to rummaging through it without any curious eyes on him and then to get rid of it as quickly as possible. So the boy didn't waste any more time and opened the brown, worn out leather wallet and took the bills out when his eyes saw a white business card. His main focus were only the bills itself, he always left the plastic and coins untouched and the other items for that matter. But the business card caught his interest. The small smile, which was plastered on the boy's face since he got his hand on the wallet, freezed immediately as his eyes wandered over the card:

Chicago Police Department

Sergeant Henry Voight

Squad Commander Intelligence Unit

"Shit."

"Shit is about the right word, kid" said a gruff voice behind his back.

And before the boy could even think about to made a run for it, the leather jacket man aka Henry Voight, fricking police sergeant and squad commander, got a tight grip on the kid's shoulder to keep him at bay.

"You're coming with me, kid" All the time, Voight was well aware of the boy's eyes on him. He found it amusing, how the boy studied him for so long, weighing his options. He was interested, if the boy really got the balls of pickpocketing his wallet and gave him an incentive as he bought that hot-dog. Voight had to admit that the kid got some serious skills but he couldn't trick him in the end.

The boy started to struggle vehemently as they stepped out of the alley.

"You better stop it" Voight said with a grave tone and tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder.

"Hey, I didn't do anything, so let go, you ..."

"He said with the stolen wallet still in his hand" Voight said mocking, cutting the boy off mid sentence.

"I found it in the alley …" the boy stopped "where do you even bring me, man?"

"Police Department to get …"

"Hell no … " this time it was the boy who cut Voight off. "I have rights, I …" The boy was taken aback, fear washed over his face as it sunk in that he got caught. Why had he to steal a damnit wallet from a dammit police officer. He needed to get his act together quickly otherwise he would spent the next hours in a cell. Hell no, that wasn't about to happen. His thoughts were going a mile a minute and then it dawned on him.

"This man is trying to kidnap me, help me" the boy yelled out, his eyes were filling with tears. "Somebody gotta help me."

The boy's yelling got immediately the desired attention and the people, who were passing by stopped midway.

Voight put his other hand on the boy's right shoulder to stop the struggling and yelling kid from getting away. He was clearly unimpressed by the boy's acting until a bystander approached him.

"You better get off the kid, man or I'm gonna call the police."

"I am the police" Voight's tone was serious and terse.

"Oh yeah, then show me your badge" the middle aged man demanded.

With an annoyed sigh, Voight's right hand let go of one of the boy's shoulder to show the other man his badge to get rid of him. At this exact moment, the boy used his opportunity to made a run as he threw his elbow in Voight's stomach. Hank, surprised by the boy's attack, lost his grip as the kid pushed the remained hand away easily. Then the boy took of at a rapid space.

The first thing the boy did as he was running, was to think of how to get rid of the evidence. He needed to act quick if the Voight guy was behind him chasing him down the street. The boy couldn't risk to get caught with the wallet again. So the kid looked over his shoulder, while running, to make sure if Voight was behind him or not. To the boy's surprise he could see that Voight wasn't running, he wasn't moving at all, he just barked unintelligible things into his phone. So the boy used the next garbage can to throw the wallet away and took of again.

As he was running down street to get away from the Voight guy, the boy had to look on more time over his shoulder to made sure that he wasn't following him. The moment the kid moved his head to throw a look over his shoulder his body slammed into an older man with a flat cap and pick in mouth. The man got his hands around the boy's waist quickly not only to prevent him from falling on the asphalt but also to keep him at bay.

"Got you" he whispered into the boy's ear.

The boy's chest was rising and falling rapidly trying to get as much oxygen into his lungs as possible to go for the next run. But the kid could feel how the adrenaline started to worn off and his body slowly got tired until he stopped with his struggles and leaned against the man. The older man's hand wandered from around the boy's waist to his upper body to support more of his weight.

"Deep breathes, that's good, kid."

"You got him, Al?" Voight's voice could be heard over the phone, which could also be used as walkie-talkie.

"Yeah, I got the sprinter. Come around with the car."

"Got it, over."

"Well boy, you did an impressive run from Hank" Al said as he was turning the boy around to see his face. He held the kid at an arm's length and studied his features. The boy's forehead was covered with sweat and he was still breathing deep. His green eyes were alert and focused on Al. The kid's face was littered with freckles and made him not look older than 14 years. His Chicago Blackhawks shirt was oversized and the black shorts were dirty and ripped. The once white shoes were shabby, filthy and had little holes inside.

"What's your name, kid?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Who cares" he hissed out.

"Where do you …"

"I'm not gonna answer any of your stupid questions without my lawyer" the boy stated serious and pressed his lips together.

Al's face crinkled with amusement. This kid was a handful.

"Al, over here" shouted Voight from inside the car, who finally found his way through the busy traffic of Chicago.

"Good luck with him, kid and you better have his wallet with you."

Al put a tight grip on the boy's shoulder and forced him lightly over to the waiting vehicle. He opened the door and waited until the kid was in his seat and buckled him on. The boy crossed his arms in front of his chest and fixated his eyes on the headrest of the passenger side. He was clearly pissed and angry but at least he didn't try for another run.

The car ride to the police department was quite. Hank watched the boy through the front mirror as he started with his line of questions.

"What's your name, kid?"

Silent treatment.

"You do know that you have to tell us sooner or later."

Silent treatment.

"So again, what's your name, kid?"

"Good luck with that" Al muttered under his breath. The kid was stubborn so much he could already tell.

The rest of the car ride was a one sided conversation. Even Al tried again to get the boy to answer at least one of their questions. But the kid stayed quiet, arms crossed and his eyes glued to the front seat.

It wasn't until the car stopped at the department that the boy shifted his gaze for the first time since he was in the car. His eyes wandered from the headrest to the police station and his face become stoney. Hank didn't miss the kid's reaction and braced himself that he might take another chance for a run. And indeed, Hank was right. Al was the one who opened the car door to let the boy out and wasn't prepared for the flying fist into his stomach. The boy used the opportunity to get out the car quickly and to made a run for it just to get grab by his shirt collar.

"Where do you think you're going, kid?" Hank asked after he made sure, that Olinsky was good.

"I said it once and I am gonna say it again" the boy said while struggling to get free "let go of me stupid cop." The kid really got the boldness to throw a punch at Hank's face but got stopped by the older man's hand taking the boy's fist in his. Hank had to chuckle slightly as he surveyed the kid in his grip: the boy really got balls.

Voight let him struggle for some time until the kid wether got tired or accepted his fate. True to his words, after some seconds, the boy stopped his moving and got still. Hank looked down at the kid and was met with green eyes shooting daggers at him. To say that the kid wasn't pissed off the situation would be an understatement.

The short way from the car inside the department went by without any further incidents. Even if the boy would try something again, he would have to get out of Hank's grip first. And by now, the kid should have realized that Hank wasn't one who let go of you easily. The typical badass cop.

After the three parties made it upstairs to the Intelligence floor, Hank let go off the boy's shoulder and made his way through the bullpen to the office at the end of the room. The boy was left to stand awkwardly in the middle. His gaze shifted from a Latino looking man and a brown haired woman to his left to the right side were an African American and a brown haired man with a beard were busy typing away on their keyboards. Or so they pretended. The boy could feel their curious eyes on him and how they examined him up and down.

"You want something, lady?" The kid, who was still pissed and therefore had a short fuse, fixated his eyes on the only woman in the room. He didn't like to be staring at and that woman kept his eyes on him for too long for his own liking.

"Be warned, Erin, the boy is a handful" Alvin said amused. "He tried to get a away from Hank twice in the last hour. Stole his wallet and even tried to punch him. He got me once."

"How impressing" Erin rose from her chair to made her way to the break room.

"He probably got out of bed on the wrong side" the brown haired man interjected as he was leaning back in his chair, hands folded behind the head.

"You better look out, Ruzek, or he also tries a punch at you." The Latino man got up from his chair and made some steps to be in front of the boy. "He's short enough to do a sucker punch."

"Who you call short, _Juan_?" The boy said aggressive and made a step forward and closed the little distance between them. The kid had to look up to get his eyes on the man's face and glared angry at him.

"You are right, Alvin, the boy is a handful."

"Lay off him, Antonio." Erin said and walked up to them. "You wanna drink something, buddy?" The boy's eyes let go off Antonio's face and found his way over to the water bottle in Erin's hand. He didn't had the chance to get his hand on the water as Voight approached them and took the boy with him. Alvin and the rest of the team looked baffled at each other until they followed suit.

Hank used the time in his office wisely and tried to get some information about the boy. But he came up empty handed. He even checked the missing database to get a knowing of the kid and again he found nothing. Not even the slightest information about who he boy was. The kid wasn't searched by anyone. So that left only one other option. Voight took the boy straight to the interrogation room. He was determined to get the wanted information out of the kid himself.

Hank opened the door of the said room and shoved the kid inside. He then made his way to the table, which was in the middle of the room and pulled out a chair for the kid to sit, facing the one-way mirror.

"Sit down" Voight commanded and took a seat at the other side of the table. The boy didn't move one inch from his place, his eyes moving nervously through the room.

"I just wanna talk" Voight said in a soothing voice, lifting his hands in surrender "nothing else, I promise."

And this caught the boy's attention. His eyes locked with Hank's, looking for any sign of a threat or a lie in it. As he could see none, he moved slowly to the chair and sit down, taking the same posture as he had in the car earlier. His arms crossed in front of his chest and eyes ahead.

The ghost of a smile played around Hank's lips as he eyed the boy in front of him.

"What's your name, kid?" the cop asked with the hope to finally get an answer to his question. And again, Voigt was met with the silent treatment. The kid was a tough one or so it seemed to Hank. After years of police work and therefore years of experience, Voight knew exactly when someone put on a tough face and when not. And the boy across from him tried hard to look brave yet his eyes were giving him away. Those green eyes hold something inside that Voight could not describe.

"You know, when someone wants to have a talk and asks something, then that someone wants a reply."

"You said, _you_ wanna talk, it never was on the table that I have to answer" the boy scoffed.

Hank let out a laugh. The boy was clever and smart. Voigt gave up on the question to find out, what the kid's name was. He was going to find out sooner or later. So instead he tried another question.

"How old are you?"

At first, Hank thought that he was met again with the silent treatment, all the more he was surprised that the boy really answered him. More or less.

"21"

"Try again, kid" Hank remarked with a faintly amused tone. He already started to like the boy.

"Yeah, ok, you caught me smart cop. I'm actually 16"

Hank gazed silently at him for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Nice try, kid" he said "you're quite the funny guy. How about the truth?"

The boy shifted his gaze from Hank to the mirror, back to Hank and then to the table in front of him.

"I'm almost 13"

Voight nodded his head in knowing, so his suspicion was right. The kid couldn't be older than 13 years.

"And for how long have you been living on the street?"

"Who cares" the boy said angry and shifted his gaze back to the mirror. "Can they see us?" The boy pointed to the one-way mirror behind the older man.

"Probably" Hank answered shortly. Actually, he was pretty sure that his team was on the other side of the mirror, watching _the interrogation_ with a lot of interested. "Is that a problem?"

The boy kept looking at the mirror and then shrugged his shoulders.

"Just wondering, if they don't have some police work to do like eating donuts or chasing innocent civilians down the street" the kid said flatly, watching Hank out of the corner of his eye to not miss his reaction.

"You mean innocent people like you?" Voight asked drly. He couldn't prevent his lips from curving into a smile. "Speaking of innocent people, what happened to my wallet?"

"I don't know what you mean, man" the boy said as he leaned forward on the table and leveled his eyes with Hank's steady gaze.

Voight watched the boy for a moment, weighing his options. He wanted to get through to the kid, not only for the sake of his wallet but also to get the boy to open up.

"What about a deal?" Hank suggested "I'm taking you to the best burger and fries diner in Chicago. You can eat whatever you want and drink whatever you want for the information of my wallet."

The kid's eyes lit up as he mentioned the burger and fries but it vanished as quickly as it had come as he returned the cold stare at Hank.

Voight let the kid some time for the words to sink in and then to think about the made offer. He was almost certain, that the boy was going to accept it. Hank knew that the kid stole his wallet to feed himself with the money, his growling stomach now and then betrayed him.

"So?" Voight pressed.

The boy let out an annoying sigh. "Whatever" he said, his voice irritated,"it isn't like I've another choice." The kid leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and eyes rolled.

* * *

The car ride to the diner was a quiet affair. Hank's gaze shifted between the boy and the street ahead of him when he came to a stop at a light. A small smile was spreading across his face as he took in the sight of the boy in the passenger seat. The kid was trying hard not to fall asleep, his head bouncing forward in the process and waking him up again. Hank had to chuckle slightly and was immediately punished with two sleepy green eyes shooting daggers at him. The day events took finally a toll on the kid and Hank was pretty sure that the boy was too worn out to made another sprint from him.

The black SUV came to a stop in front of Sally's burger point in Near West Side. The old flat-roofed building was once a popular point for young and old people of the neighborhood but after the economic crisis the restaurant had lost much of its glamour. Despite the crumbling frontage and the spall paint it was still one of Hank's favorite places to enjoy a good coffee and food.

"You won't find a better burger in whole Chicago" Voight told the boy as he noticed the unsure expression.

* * *

Voight picked the fallen asleep boy in his arms and carried him gently into the house, up the steps and into the guest room. He laid the kid in the bed, slid each one of his shoes onto the ground and threw a blanket over top of him. He then set at the edge of the bed, watching the sleeping boy in it.

The boy's appetite was insatiable. You could think that the kid hadn't eaten for a week and much to Hank's dismay he was sure about that. The dinner in the restaurant went better than he thought. The boy was much more communicative like in the interrogation room and every once in a while he let slip out an information about himself. The only thing Hank still didn't know was the boy's name.

"Sleep well, kid" Hank said as he stroked over the boy's head carefully, then stood up and made his way to the door quietly. As he was about to close it softly the boy mumbled in his sleep:

"The name is Jay."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: It's a short chapter, I had to split it. Enjoy.

" _Mommy? Mommy, where are you?" The little boy made his way from one room to another, looking for his beloved mother. He knew she had to be here because his mommy and daddy's car was parked outside the house. He could hear hushed voices coming from the kitchen and then a high pitched scream. The boy run as fast as his little legs could carry him into the kitchen. The sight that met him there let the young child freeze. At his feet lay his mother in a puddle of blood, her eyes wide open in shock ..._

Jay awoke abruptly in the middle of the night, his body was covered in sweat and his breathing was erratic. The nightmare he had, left him shaken and afraid and for a moment, the boy didn't know where he was. Full of panic, Jay grasped for breath and struggled to get free of the blanket, which was wrapped around his body. A sickness filled him when he put his hands on the knees to get a grip of himself. His foggy mind was spinning around the dream and what he had to witness once. "You are too old to have bad dreams like this one" Jay whispered harshly trying to settle his breathing. "Man up, baby." But the kid couldn't stop his thoughts from going back to the day he lost everything. The boy's mother was dead, murdered by the man he once called _daddy_.

Since this fateful day, Jay's life was just a downward spiral. He got handed over from one foster family to another and lived through violence, hunger and humiliation. The traumatized child couldn't take it any longer and so he run away. The life he had on the streets of Chicago was better than the life he had at the foster homes. The years went by quickly and Jay got used to his new life. He was a little survival artist, smart enough to steal wallets and clever enough not to get caught. And then he was stupid enough to steal a wallet from a police officer. No, not just a random police officer but rather badass sergeant Henry Voight of the Chicago police department. Jay could curse himself for his rookie mistake. He was always so proud of his ability to read other person's body language but he missed all the signs of Voight. "Great, just great, Jay" the kid said mocking as he buried his face in his hands as the memory came to light why he was actually in a bed. He really fell asleep after they made their way back from the Magnificent Mile. He had told Hank after dinner, where he can find his wallet. Jay owned him that. The man kept his promise and paid for all the food and drinks, even for the slice of chocolate cake, Jay gulped down after his burger and fries. And then somewhere on the road he must have fallen asleep. Jay couldn't remember clearly, how he got in the bed but he could remember well that he indeed said his name to Hank. His name! Jay panicked, countless thoughts tumbled widely in his mind. He really told a police officer his name. Now, Hank could look him up on whatever database and is going to find out that he was a runaway. That he was all alone by himself, living on the streets and had no parent, who could look after him. Hank would call someone from child service and then Jay would be forced to live with foster parents again. No way, the boy couldn't stay here any longer. He needed to get away as far as possible. So he got out of bed, put on his shoes and made his way to the door. Jay opened it quietly and hold his breath to listen. After he was sure that he couldn't hear any noises, he peeked his head out the door to catch a glimpse of the hall. Voight was nowhere to be seen or another person for that matter. The boy had no clue, how many persons were present but he was determined not to met anyone on his way out of the house. The dim light in the hall made it difficult for the boy to see properly and not to run in any furniture. When the kid made it finally to the staircase he let out a breath, he didn't realize, he was holding all the time. Jay put one foot on the stairway to test it of any creak sounds. He wasn't interested in getting caught just because the damn stairs made any noises. When the boy was sure that he could made his way downstairs without drawing any attention, he took one last glance over his shoulder to be sure that he was the only soul in the hall. After minutes, which felt like hours, the boy reached the door, unlocked it and disappeared into the night.

* * *

Hank Voight wasn't someone who wore his emotions on the sleeve. He was respected and feared in Chicago, his words were powerful and he was used to get his way. Nevertheless, Voight was disappointed and sorrowful to find an empty bed in the morning. He really thought that he had made progress to get through to the kid after the boy told him his name. That Jay even trusted him a little bit but he was wrong. Voight let out a sigh of frustration as he stood in the doorway, his gaze on the unmade bed. He took a sip from his coffee, thinking about the boy and his motives of running away. The front door opened downstairs and after some time Erin stood beside him.

"So he's gone?"

"Seems like that" Voight said gruff. It wasn't his intention to bark at Erin and he knew she wouldn't get it the wrong way.

"Do you've a clue where he could be?" she asked ignoring Hank's slight outburst. Erin was scanning the room for any hint where the boy may have gone to.

"Somewhere in Chicago. I don't know how long Jay is gone."

„The name is Jay?" Erin raised her eyebrows, thinking back to the trouble Hank had to get the boy to say his name. "Jay and what?"

„I don't know, the kid was clever enough to keep his surname for himself" Hank said as he turned around to made his way downstairs to get to the kitchen.

"We can find him, we can look …"

"If he wants to be find" Voight said, cutting Erin off. "He had a reason for running away again."

* * *

Jay had avoided the Magnificent Mile for seven days now. Seven days have passed since the boy had a proper meal and slept in a real bed. He couldn't even remember the last time he had.

It was getting dark in Chicago and the playground in the park, where the kid was on, was almost deserted. Here and there was still a mother with her child, watching it, how it climbed up the monkey bars and saying words full of proud. "Stupid cop" the boy whispered to himself. He was keeping his distance to the Magnificent Mile on purpose, he wanted to avoid Hank and his team. The boy rose from the bench he had occupied for the last hours to get to the swings. "Stupid, stupid cop" Jay said again as he kicked some dirt with his shoes from where he sat on the swing. Life was so much better before he met badass sergeant Voight. The boy let out a sigh as he swung lightly, his mind miles away. He didn't notice that it started to rain nor he noticed the three young men coming from across the park and were heading over to him. Jay was just too busy thinking about, what he was about to do next, that he didn't notice the young men's presence until it was too late. The hard push, which send him flying from the swing, come unexpected out of the blue. Jay didn't have time to fully process what had just happened and why he found himself on the ground as he was turned around on his back harshly.

"Look at that. The baby is about to cry cos he fell off the swing" the tallest among the three men said and eyed Jay in front of him. "Whatcha got in your pants, baby?" he said as he flicked his pocket knife open.

"Nothing, I ..." Jay stumbled before he got lifted up by a guy with blonde hair and pimples.

"Check his pockets" the tall guy commanded.

The third man, with glasses and dandruff, reached for the boy's arms and wrenched them tight behind his back. Jay let out a quit whimper as he tried to free himself but the grip on his arms only tightened and caused him more pain.

Jay's front pockets were being searched by the blond guy and found what he was looking for. The five dollars and two quarters were everything the boy still owned. That was his nest egg.

"Man, that's all what I got. You can't be serious, you Neanderthal" Jay hissed out and regretted it immediately. The punch to his stomach came unexpected. He felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He couldn't breath. The only thing, which prevented him from dropping to the ground, was dandruff man holding him.

"Who you call Neanderthal, you useless worm?" the tall guy asked in anger. It was clear to Jay that he had hit a sore point with his insult but at least he was prepared for the next two punches, one to his eye and one to his mouth. The latter punch caused his upper lip to burst open and Jay could taste his own blood.

"Have enough, baby worm?" the tall guy asked, admiring the bruises on Jay's face. "That's what you get for your disrespect."

More than 100 insults came instantly to the kid's mind but he was smart enough to keep his mouth closed. If he wanted to get away from those guys without any more pain then he had to shut up. The only thing Jay could really do in his precarious position was to glare at the tall guy but the man wasn't even impressed.

"Look at that, the worm is really glaring at me. How about we gonna put a nice smile on your face" the guy said as he stepped to Jay, his knife playing dangerously near his mouth. The remaining two men were laughing loud.

"You got what you wanted, so let me go" Jay begged, fear washed over his face as he eyed the knife making his way up his cheek.

"Lost your cool, worm?" asked blondie arrogant.

"He isn't really worth it, let's beat the crap outta him and then scoot" said dandruff man behind Jay's back.

"No, I wanna have more fun with the baby" the tall guy patted Jay's cheek awkwardly. "Get him out the park."

The dandruff man didn't need to be told twice and forced Jay harshly to get into action. The boy's mind was working overtime as he tried to find a solution for his difficult situation. It was pointless to scream out for help as long as they were in the park. At this time of the night, the park was deserted like a cemetery. His only chance was, when they got out of the park to the much more busier street, that maybe someone was walking his dog or came home late. But to Jay's dismay no one was on the street as they stepped out.

The four persons turned left and were walking down the street. The tall guy and blondie were in the front followed by Jay and dandruff guy, who still got a tight grip on the boy's arms. The kid's eyes scanned the street for potential bystanders, who could eventually help him but the street was still deserted.

Jay didn't know where the three men were leading him and it was useless to ask them, they wouldn't answer him anyway. He tried numerous time to fight dandruff man off but Jay wasn't strong enough. Only a miracle could help him now.


End file.
